


Science and Faith

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Angst, Existential Crisis, Gen, No Dialogue, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Victor reevaluates his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Science and Faith

**Author's Note:**

> I love Penny Dreadful, and I'm shocked at the lack of stories for this fandom. Since Victor is my main guy (I love that dude to death) I decided to try some inner monologuing for him. Also I'm not sure if I'm ready for any pairing fics yet.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Bye!!!

Victor has never really believed in any sort of religion. He respects it to a certain degree, understands why some put most of their faith into it, but he believes in what he can see, what he can prove, and some unseen God is not one of those things. To be perfectly honest, he is not quite sure he wants to believe in science anymore either.

He is not sure why he is at the church. He does not remember making the conscious decision to come here. In fact, the last thing he remembers is excusing himself from his lab, leaving Caliban and his bride (and the thought makes Victor sick to his stomach) alone. He has not quite finished with Brona, but he predicts she will be ready in a few days, and he hates himself for what he is doing to the poor woman.

He can argue that she gave her permission, but she did not know what she was agreeing to. Victor hadn’t exactly explained it to her, had not told her that she was to become the bride of his creation. To the abomination that has been haunting him for months.

Victor lets the church door gently close behind him, letting his eyes settle on the crucifix positioned over the altar. He recalls a time, when he had been younger, that a crucifix similar to this one had frightened him. If he is being honest, it still frightens him a bit.

He slowly walks towards a pew somewhere in the middle, slowly sinking into it. He places his hands into his lap, letting his fingers intertwine, and bows his head. He does not pray. Prayer, he believes, is for the ignorant, for those who seek forgiveness or assurance. Victor does not seek nor does he feel he deserves either.

Instead, he thinks of Proteus and Doctor Van Helsin and how their deaths were brought on by a creation he never should have brought to life. He thinks of Vanessa Ives and Sir Malcolm and their loss of Mina Harker. He thinks of Ethan Chandler and the anguish he must be feeling from Brona Croft’s death.

So many events, some connected, others barely scratching the surface of the woes that had been bestowed upon them. While the others can easily place the blame on others, Victor must admit his woes are no one’s fault but his own. Though, one could argue, none of his companions are, in fact, blameless either.

Victor’s mother used to be a devout woman. She spent her Sundays at church, prayed every night, did confession twice a month. Victor used to spend a lot of time in churches, used to listen to his mother tell him how God was always watching; always knew. What little faith he had died with his mother.

He wonders what his mother would think of him now, and a humorless laugh escapes his lips. She would accuse him of trying to be God. And maybe what he did, bringing people back from the dead, is an act of God, but it also proved that if He existed, if He cared, He wouldn’t allow Victor to complete his experiments; would not give Victor the power to re-instill life into someone who has died.

Recently Victor began wishing he had never attempted to raise the dead. Caliban opened his eyes to his actions, showed him that for every good deed he does, there is always going to be something bad that follows. Proteus had been good, kind, a success, and he had been taken away by pure evil, by Victor’s failure, just like Doctor Van Helsin.

If Heaven and Hell do exist, Victor supposes there is a nice place in the Devil’s inner sanctum for him. He and the daemons and vampyrs can spend an eternity with only each other for company. Maybe his own personal Hell would be watching his mother die over and over again; dying from the same sickness that nearly claimed Victor. Perhaps Brona Croft was not the first person he’d ever killed. Perhaps he is not like God; maybe he’s the Devil.

The church suddenly feels sweltering, a wave of claustrophobia crashes over Victor, and he quickly stands up. He can feel eyes on him, most likely a few of the devout, maybe a priest, but Victor manages to convince himself that the man on the crucifix, Jesus Christ, is watching him. He knows it is absurd, but the irrational fear grips him tightly, and he hurries out of the church, nearly tripping over his own feet.

The door slams shut behind him, and Victor bends forward, resting his hands on his knees. He pulls in deep, gulping gusts of fresh air, the biting cold hurting his lungs. It takes several moments to calm himself, but finally he straightens, running a shaking hand across his forehead.

Slowly, Victor walks down the steps, heading in the direction of home. His father once told him that no one is, in fact, sinless. He just never told Victor that some sins are bigger than others, and sometimes it’s almost impossible to find a way to redeem yourself. Not that Victor deserves redemption. No, he deserves everything that happens to him.

And if Ethan Chandler discovers what Victor did to Brona Croft and decides to do away with Doctor Frankenstein. Victor sees no reason to stop him. Death has to be better than the guilt he already feels, but death would also be a mercy Victor does not deserve.

Somewhere a bell rings out, twelve tolls, midnight, and Victor buries his hands in his pocket, hunching his shoulders. He does not know what he deserves, no one knows what he deserves, but he supposes his choices will continue to come back and haunt him. It is just a matter of whether he is ready to accept the consequences.


End file.
